I think I have a great way to bring all this terrorism to a quick and casualty-free end. Crate up all the clowns I work with, air lift 'em over to Afghanistan, drop the idiots in the hills, wait a day or two, and watch the freakin' terriorists come a runnin'! No shit, these people could test the nerves of even the most hard core lunatics. I know, because I live through their twisted little, mind blowing antics every freakin' work day of the year. And I have the mental and digestive scars to show for it. No lie. I have a manager, who not only looks like, but manages like Hitler. Then there's the fella that farts every 5 freakin' minutes, then giggles & giggles; there's the neurotic socialite-wannabe, who imagines herself to have every illness known to man or is on the verge of getting one. After drinking green tea one afternoon, I told her that the side-effect would be that her skin would have a green tint for 24 hours. She spent the whole day showing everyone in the store her slowly "greening" limbs. Nut case. I got an ulcer because of this bitch. Now we come to the chick that is so strung out on "whatever", that all she does is sleep all day, or when she is awake, and I use that term loosly, her eyes are half shut. She smokes, takes a 2 hour lunch, crashes out, the goes home. She hasn't been to work in like a month......heard she and a few friends got sloshed and rear-ended a parked car. Oopsie! Can you say DUI?? Ok, where was I? Another gentleman (or lack there of) I work with is referred to as "super perv". Gawks at young babes all day, making lewd remarks, etc. You get the picture. Every womans dream guy. Ugh. New guy is a stutterer. Now I know that he can't control this affliction, and his stuttering is not the main source of aggrivation. Fact is, he's a hyper stutterer. Shit, there's nohing like having someone running aroung like they're strung out on coke, while trying to talk to you and they freakin stutter. We also have "bitch and moan". All this guy does, 24/7 is complain about everything! He makes up shit if theres nothing to bitch about. Hates his job, the wife, the traffic, on and on and on. To make a long story bearable, we also have: the manic depressant, the office slut/ valley girl (ya know), a fella from the "hood" who sings "My Girl" all damn day, and a host of other amusing oddities that I call co-workers. So you see, I believe I have the perfect arsenol right here at my disposal. Free of charge, I can have em ready to go in a moments notice. Toss a few snacks in the crate, a case of beer or two, a blow up doll for perv boy, and they'd be filing in there pronto. A few nails, a one way ticket.....see ya!! There's plenty of room in the crate, so if anyone has a co-worker or two to contribute, bring em on. The more the merrier. When in doubt....send in the clowns! (can you tell it was a long day??)